Mu Shan only glanced at the system prompt. She truly lacked the energy to examine it closely.
Beside her, the rookie leaned in with an expression of pure admiration. “Sister, you’re really so strong! What was that bus just now? A profession skill? My god, it directly crushed that monster to death—a path I never even imagined!”
Mu Shan: “…How old are you?”
The rookie chuckled sheepishly. “I’m Zhang Haiyang, twenty-three this year, just a half-year intern.”
Mu Shan also pursed her lips in a smile. “I’m twenty-two, fresh out of school.”
An awkward silence hung between them for a few seconds. Zhang Haiyang grinned foolishly. “No worries, you’re so smart and powerful. Without you earlier, I’d have died already! I’ll still call you sister—age doesn’t matter in the face of strength.”
Mu Shan thought, Who’s saying that? Age matters a lot.
The two quickly exchanged player accounts. She gained her second friend on the list.
The rain had completely stopped. The bus burned with a pungent charred stench, thick smoke billowing everywhere. They worried the firelight would attract more zombies, so they had to move farther away.
Mu Shan walked beside the rookie. “Why did you go into the bookstore earlier?”
Zhang Haiyang scratched his head. “No idea, just instinctively hid inside. Figured I’d take a chance—worst case, get eaten by the monster. Anyway, those ‘disappeared’ folks can’t return to normal society.”
He shared his skill interface with her. Thus, Mu Shan saw that besides 【Rookie Doesn’t Understand】 and 【Rookie Thick Skin】, he surprisingly had another one.
【Skill: Rookie Luck A
(Passive) Possesses extraordinary luck and a sixth sense. 50% chance to select the correct answer or optimal solution when making choices.
“Do not discuss logic with a rookie.”】
A certain newbie office rookie who was handed three powerful skills right from the start.
Mu Shan restrained herself from rolling her eyes: Comparisons are odious.
Though the rain had stopped, the ruined city at night was both cold and damp. The temperature seemed to have dropped to freezing.
Zhang Haiyang hunched his shoulders and instinctively drew closer to her side. “Sister, so what do we do now…?”
“Loot things.”
Mu Shan walked step by step back to the original intersection and found the corpses of the two men and one woman players in turn.
First gutted by the monster, then washed by the downpour—their remains were utterly wretched. Some parts were mixed together, impossible to distinguish whose body tissue was whose.
Zhang Haiyang covered his mouth nearby and vomited bile. “I can’t take it, urp. You take it all…”
No third veteran player present could utter such words.
Mu Shan, a girl, was actually quite scared too. But corpses wouldn’t leap up and bite—harmless compared to monsters.
It was only the second day of the instance, yet the dangers she encountered kept shattering her bottom line.
Continued timidity and cowardice meant she wouldn’t survive.
Mu Shan steeled her nerves. She donned two layers of masks and approached the pile of corpses with trembling hands.
The system prompt stated that upon player death, all virtual backpack items would drop. These three players hadn’t unlocked any space storage skills, so few items spilled from their backpacks—scattered loosely on the ground beside the bodies.
The yellow-haired guy had carried a physical backpack too, which Mu Shan found near the vehicle.
The timing and location weren’t suitable for close inspection. She simply swept everything into her own backpack.
Mu Shan tossed a crowbar to Zhang Haiyang. “Take this. You need it.”
He caught it and hefted it casually. “The holy sword of physics! I’ll rely on this to bash zombies from now on!”
By then, the death countdown overhead lingered around eight minutes and kept dropping—meaning hordes of zombies were drawn by the nighttime firelight, heading their way.
Mu Shan found a roadside bicycle and smashed the lock violently. “I’m heading back to the safe house. The apocalyptic city at night is even more dangerous. You find a spot to hide quick.”
“Got it, thanks sister!”
Though both were newbies, they’d absorbed a year’s worth of hypotheses about human “disappearances.” They accepted the situation swiftly.
With zombies yet to gather around, Mu Shan pedaled off toward the park as quietly as possible.
The unlit city brimmed with oppressive terror.
No headlights or streetlamps on the streets—only shambling “pedestrians” dragging their feet through the darkness.
Mu Shan keenly sensed that zombies seemed more active at night.
She avoided zombie groups along the way. Only once, when evasion failed, did she hack one down with her axe.
She returned to the park unscathed. Mu Shan entered the safe house, shed her soaked outer clothes, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed into a chair.
She didn’t want to move an inch. Her body was filthy beyond belief—hair full of construction debris crumbs, like she’d been dredged from a cement pit.
Mu Shan blanked out for thirty seconds, then dragged her aching body up with a wail. She plugged in the kettle to boil water for washing.
While the water heated, she spotted a white gift box on the small wooden table—the safe house gift pack the system mentioned.
【Safe House Gift Pack
Choose one of the following three upgrades:
1. Add kitchen area (includes gas)
2. Add air conditioning system (heating and cooling)
3. Add ground-level sunroom (4m x 4m)】
Mu Shan drooled at the options. The system offered exactly what she craved most… Impossible to choose.
After long hesitation, she picked the kitchen.
No sunroom or AC was tolerable, but no kitchen meant she couldn’t process food.
【Player obtained: Simple Kitchen Area x1 (upgradable)】
【Spend 1 gold coin to redeem 1 cubic meter of civilian gas?】
Mu Shan confirmed. Suddenly, hammering sounds—“clang clang clang”—echoed from the empty corner wall opposite the entry steps. After a few seconds of darkness, a new fixture appeared there.
A single-burner simple gas stove, with piping embedded in the wall. Above hung a wooden kitchen wall cabinet, empty inside.
The stovetop was set into a stone-brick countertop cabinet, surfaced with old-style white tiles from the ’80s or ’90s—no sink, no range hood.
Though terribly basic-looking, Mu Shan was delighted. This kitchen area exceeded her expectations… At least it had cabinets; she finally had storage.
Mu Shan first moved the rice, bowls, chopsticks, and utensils she’d looted into the cabinets. She unpacked the grains and neatly stacked the bags in the wall cabinet.
Stockpiling food itself brought a happy calm.
She took out a small flat pan, layered in rinsed rice, added water, and started cooking.
While waiting for the rice, Mu Shan mixed hot water in a plastic basin for her first instance bath since entry.
Undressed, she found bruises everywhere—purple and blue patches. Thin scratches marred both arms, from who-knows-where.
She emerged, dried her hair, and found the rice done. Fragrant steam wafted from the little pan. Since it was a flat-bottomed pan, a crispy rice crust formed at the base.
No sides—just plain white rice—but it brought long-lost bliss.
Exhausted after cleaning the dishes, eyelids drooping, Mu Shan buried half her face in the warm bedding. No clock, no phone to scroll.
【Cannon Fodder Player 537099
ID: Mu Shan
Age: 22
Profession: Collector [Click for details]
Skills: Hoarding Addiction I, Hoarding Addiction II, Trash Sorting [Click for details]
Status: Sick, Fatigued
HP: 30
Defense: 15
Strength: 17
Mental: 36
Agility: 17
Gold Coins: 241
Instance Count: 1 (Zombie Siege)】
Main Quest (Survive to Day 3)
Morning brought continued rain outside, with low temperatures. Mu Shan checked the iron door—no leaks.
But the basement’s mud-plastered walls were starting to dampen. She pondered safe house modifications.
Though she had an umbrella, Mu Shan had no plans to scavenge today. She needed to inventory yesterday’s loot pronto.
Mixed men’s and women’s clothes from the dry cleaners piled on the bed. She picked out wearables for herself; the rest went into backpack slots.
The three dead players’ virtual backpacks yielded treasures: a kitchen knife, an emergency medical kit, two coils of rope, a pair of rain boots, two rolls of tape, a mechanical men’s watch.
She slipped the watch onto her wrist.
With rope and tape, she secured two old garments against the bed-adjacent wall to block dampness from wetting the bedding.
Sundry white liquor and cigarettes aplenty. She stashed the highest-proof bottle under the bed.
The medical kit held scant meds: a box of montmorillonite powder, a bottle of houttuynia cordial, a box of amoxicillin, a roll of gauze, a bottle of povidone iodine, some band-aids, and a pack of cotton swabs.
Far short for household emergencies, let alone apocalypse. Still, Mu Shan carefully arranged the kit on a bedside paper box.
The yellow-haired guy’s backpack brimmed with cookies, chocolates, chips—high-calorie snacks that thrilled Mu Shan.
She stored the snacks, emptied the backpack for her own disguised outings.
Surveying the room, the tiny safe house brimmed fuller.
With growing supplies, storage shortages emerged.
Persistent rain would dampen the basement; rice, grains, cookies would spoil easily without proper storage.
Mu Shan opened the system mall.
[Double-door large fridge x1: 100 gold coins]
[Four-layer solid wood cabinet x1: 50 gold coins]
[Floor-to-ceiling wardrobe x1: 45 gold coins]
Non-edibles, non-essentials—furniture was reasonably priced.
She held over two hundred gold coins, hard-won from life-or-death struggles with mutant zombies. Every coin must count.
Mu Shan stood in the room’s center, pondering deeply, and ultimately bought [Dorm-style three-tier bunk iron frame bed x1].
This outdid even university dorm bunks—it was three tiers, narrow like train hard sleepers, impossible to sit upright in.
But cheap! Sturdy three-tier iron frame, just 20 gold coins to swap.
After purchase, the system icon blinked, draggable.
Like a decor game, she tapped and placed the bunk where needed.
To maximize space, Mu Shan removed the lowest tier’s wood planks and fitted the frame directly over her original rickety board bed.
【Hard board bed → Updated to: Three-tier hard board bunk bed】
She draped a white sheet around the lowest tier’s sides for dust-proofing, turning it into a closet. Proximity to the ground board also warded off damp.
Middle tier for sleeping—cramped, but secure amid her supplies.
Top tier too high for daily use; perfect for seldom-needed items. Sturdy frame, no collapse worry. Even included a ladder for access.
She stacked the suitcase of toiletries, heaps of laundry detergent and powder atop the upper bunk.
The room instantly freed two corners, far tidier.
Mu Shan admired her handiwork, nodded in satisfaction, a swell of fulfillment rising.
She also bought an old-model six-outlet power strip.
Not survival-essential, but mall-priced right at 2 gold coins.
Busily tidying, Mu Shan suddenly felt something underfoot.
She lifted her foot: a white work badge with a lanyard.